


God Save The Queen

by fangirl_haven



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Feminism, Investigations, Murder Mystery, Original Fiction, Racism, Romance, Social Elite, Victorian, Victorian England, dead bodies, inspecting cadavers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_haven/pseuds/fangirl_haven
Summary: Aletheia Clarke is a simply young lady living in Victorian England. Aside from her tanned skin and her unnatural interest in the dead she faired well. She soon find herself in the middle of a perilous investigation bigger than her or her partner could even imagine. In the midst of all of this Aletheia finds herself with another issue. She’s in love.
Relationships: Aletheia Clarke/Clarence Baxter
Kudos: 1





	God Save The Queen

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posting of my original novel. I’ve been working on this for a while now and I’m nervous to share it with people because I adore Aletheia and Clarence. But here goes nothing 
> 
> Also I’m not sure why it transferred the way it did. I didn’t feel like going through and indenting all the verbal statements (sorry!)

Aletheia found herself looking over her embroidery at the paper her father was currently pursuing, the headlines once again focused on The Kornermen Gang that had been ailing Liverpool recently.   
“Aletheia Clark,” her mother chastised softly, sharing a knowing look ensuring that she would get her the paper later today, for now she was to focus on her embroidery, what any proper girl of her status should be doing.  
“Sorry mother,” she apologized, turning her gaze down to her current task, the deep blue of the thread standing out against the cream fabric. Her eyes itched to return to the paper, brain prickling with interest, pulling her focus from mother's lessons. Clearing her mind she tried to focus on the needle and thread, pulling it through the fabric once again. Father's dissatisfied sigh broke the silence, the smoke from his pipe the only thing to be seen over the paper.   
“A gang seems to be stalking the streets,” he deduced, looking to the both of them. “Your outings must be kept to a minimum.”  
“Charles!” he mother tsked sharply, “We are far from Liverpool. And the Scotland Yard would not allow it,” she said, her gaze not moving from her embroidery. “If you truly wish for Aletheia to find a suitor, caging her inside is not the proper response.”  
“Aletheia will not find a suitor if she is dead.” Father responded coldly.  
“Charles!” Mother hissed, “how dare you talk of such things,” she said laying her embroidery down, “Aletheia is a grown woman, and if you desire to put a curfew on her outings you may discuss that with her-” mother said gathering her skirts, “-but if we are to speak of death I will have no part in it.” Aletheia opened her mouth to speak before watching her mother leave with a quiet huff. Looking back down at her embroidery she added a stitch before sighing looking back to her father.  
“Death is not appropriate conversation for a lady of your status,” her father said, looking over the paper at her, daring her to retort.   
“Yes father,” she breathed, giving him a curt nod, laying her embroidery down and holding her skirts as she retired to her room, closing the door behind her.   
“That was rather short,” her mother said with a soft smile from her spot on her bed.   
“Father seemed displeased.” Aletheia said coming to her side, taking the paper from her hands.   
“I’ve yet to read it, I thought maybe you should read it first,” she said, brushing the hair from her daughters face.   
“Thank you mother, I will be sure to have Jack reason with me.” Aletheia said with a smile, pulling out her journals from under her duvet.   
“You’re such a smart girl, I wish your father could see that,” her mother said softly, thumb brushing her cheek. “He’s afraid of losing you, but he knows that you will live to do wonderous things, as do I Aletheia, you will make us very proud, I only hope that I will be there to see it.” Smoothing the wrinkles of distress on her daughter's face she kissed her forehead with a soft smile. “You have much work to do,” she said, gesturing to the paper, “do try to be quick about it.” Aletheia nodded, waving her mother a brief goodbye before looking down to the paper, pulling out her pen and inkwell, moving to her writing desk, mind swimming with possibilities. A soft knock startled her from her thoughts, making sure to cover the paper in case her father had come to speak with her.  
“You may come in,” she said smoothing her bodice. Jack looked in with a smile, coming in quickly leaving the door open a bit.   
“I see mother received today's paper,” he said coming to her side, hands in the pockets of his riding pants.   
“Where are you off to brother?” Aletheia asked shifting her focus back to the paper, underlining important details that she would need to consider.   
“Off to do some deduction of my own,” he said looking down to her. “You’re welcome to join me for an afternoon stroll.” Jack said, turning away from her, “I’ll send for a carriage.” Aletheia smiled softly, slipping the paper in her boot before reaching for her coat, and taking Jack’s arm, letting him lead her out so as to not arouse suspicion from their father. “Father, Aletheia and I will be taking an afternoon stroll.” Jack said.  
“Watch over her, you know she’s too curious for a woman in her place.” Their father said, not looking up from his paper. Jack snuck two cigars from beside father, offering her a slight smile.   
“Please send for a carriage,” he said to one of their maids, who gave him a soft reply.   
“I do hope you can make this quick, this gang, something doesn't seem right about them.” Jack said softly, “I don’t know why they’re killing.”   
“From what I’ve gathered they have only murdered women of high status.” Aletheia said, letting Jack lead her out to the carriage. “Terrible truly, but I am not sure as to why,” she said, gathering her skirts and taking Jack’s hand as he helped her in.  
“You and the Scotland Yard,” he breathed, offering her a cigar and lighting them both. “If only father could see you now, off to investigate a gang, smoking a cigar, he’d likely keel over.”  
“Jack!” Aletheia giggled, “That’s no way to speak about your father,” she said composing herself. Chuckling to himself, she shook his head looking back to her, “All true assumptions.” biting off the end she smiled, breathing a bit of smoke as she spoke.   
“Father would likely disown me if he knows where I go in the evenings,” she added, gesturing to her ventures to the coroner.   
“Not if he knew Daemon was so taken by you.” Jack retorted, pulling a shudder from his sister.   
“He’s absolutely repulsive.” Aletheia murmured, “He has no mind on how to speak to women, and his hair is absolutely horrid.” Jack chuckled, looking out to the city of Manchester, gloomy skies seeming a bit more menacing. Aletheia pulled the paper from her boot, looking over the case, cigar in hand. Disregarding the editorials she looked immediately to the report on the recent murders, grimacing slightly at the extensive detail.  
“Anything new?” Jack questioned, looking to her questionably.  
“They’ve gotten more audacious with their killings,” she said, brow furrowed in concentration. “They even went as far as to ca- regardless of what they’ve removed from the body, this killing is bloodier than the last one.” Alethia said, looking at him.  
“Bloody hell,” Jack breathed, looking away from her, back to the city. “There’s something intriguing about the-what did you say their name was?”  
“The Kornermen,” she said looking at him, “and there is nothing intriguing about them, they are murderers and thieves,” she said taking a smoke from her cigar.   
“You’ll be nose deep in their cases soon enough sister,” Jack said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head fondly. Aletheia opened her mouth to say something, deciding against it, not wanting to spoil their high spirits.   
Their carriage came to a stop, a short walk from the coroner.   
“Do try to be a pleasant sister, you may not fancy him, but we do need his silence.” Jack said, offering her his arm. Knowing that he was right she decided it best not to say anything, giving him a nod. Cigar in between his fingers, cane in hand he led her down to the coroner’s, opening the door for her. She inhaled slightly at the smell, wishing she would be accustomed to the odor with all the bodies she came to inspect.  
“My most loyal inspectors.” Daemon greeted with a smile, pulling off a soiled glove. “Mr. Clarke, Ms. Clarke,” he said, shaking Jack’s hand, bringing Aletheia’s to his lips in a gentle kiss.  
“Woddrow,” she said, pulling her hand back offering him a tight smile. She took in his disheveled appearance, hair unruly per usual, clothes creased and dusted. “We’re here to inspect the body of-”  
“Yes, yes right this way,” he said with a nod, leading them back to where the bodies were kept offering them both gloves. “Mr. Griggs was declared deceased 48 hours ago,” he said, pulling the sheet back that covered the carcass. Alethia put a hand to her nose, pulling the sheet all the way off, looking to Jack.   
“As you both should already know, this murder is the bloodiest, possible out of vengeance.” Daemon said.  
“A moment please,” Jack said before looking to Aletheia.  
“He died of exsanguination,” she said gesturing to the man’s jugular, “The carotid artery was cut, precisely,” she said, inspecting the wound. Purplish bruises surrounded the wound, confusing her at first. “He was strangled as well, to expedite the death. They must have been working quickly,” she said looking at Jack. Taking in the various bodily wounds she grimaced slightly at the mutilated genitals, pulling her gaze from the wound.   
“There was no intention to make this murder painless.”Jack said, stepping back from the body and coming to her side. “This was premeditated and planned.” She nodded in agreement, pulling off her gloves.  
“But why?” She questioned, “Not only was Mr. Griggs of highborn blood, he was the first male victim.”  
“Both Mrs. Blaire, and Ms. Chattoway.” Jack pointed out.  
“Both females, one of them being married.” Aletheia said, taking a smoke from her cigar. “Unless there is a sort of intention in these murders,” she suggested. “Seeing that all the victims have been of high birth, the murderers are likely lower class.” Jack nodded in agreement, coming to her side.   
“These killers are not finished.”  
“Not at all.” Aletheia agreed, shaking her head. “There will be more, of high birth females, or males now that we have Mr. Griggs.”   
Jack offered her his arm, “Are you up for an adventure dear sister?” Jack challenged looking at her.  
“Most definitely,” she said with a nod.  
\--------------------------------------------------  
Jack had persuaded her father to allow her to accompany him on his trip to Liverpool, under the pretense that he was meeting a friend for tea. Mother knew otherwise, a knowing smile gracing her face.   
“This friend of yours, is he a possible suitor for Aletheia?” Their father asked, looking to Jack in question.  
“He would gain your approval,” he responded, “A notable gentleman.” Father grunted in response, giving his permission.  
“Do act like a lady, your mother didn’t teach you out of boredom.”   
“Yes father,” she replied with a nod.   
“Pack your things dear, I suspect you may be spending some time in Liverpool.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------   
“Do be careful darling, Liverpool is an awfully big place,” her mother said, adding another pair of gloves for her.   
“I will mother, Jack will look after me.” Aletheia said with a smile, looking to her brother.   
“You’re so intelligent dear,” her mother breathed with a smile. “Your carriage will be waiting.” Aletheia watched as her mother left, offering her bags to Jack.   
“Of course dear sister, I would love to take your bags for you.” Jack said with a smile, following behind her. She offered him a smile, looking over her shoulder. Jack followed her out to the carriage, offering her a hand as she hitched up her skirts, settling in the carriage. Jack followed soon after, bringing their bags with him.   
“Tea? Is that the most suitable excuse you could come up with?”Aletheia teased.   
“Father had no suspicions.” Jack said, looking to her pointedly. Aletheia shook her head with a sigh, pulling out the paper again.   
“Who is this notable gentleman you believe will be a decent suitor for me,” she asked, looking up at him. Jack smirked, crossing his arms.   
“Why sister, you’re going to have to wait and see for yourself.”  
\-------------------------------------------  
Alethia wasn’t particularly fond of carriage rides, especially prolonged rides. Jack’s incessant tapping of his feet bothered her the most, laying a gentle hand on his knee.   
“Please,” she said softly, looking at him, “you’re going to drive me mad.”   
“Perhaps you should find a more interesting subject to occupy your mind.” Jack said, not sparring her a glance. Jack disliked long carriage rides more than Aletheia, resulting in a sour mood. With a sigh she sat back with the paper, eyes glancing up at Jack occasionally.  
“Stop that,” he snapped, clenching his jaw. Aletheia sighed, holding the paper up a bit higher to disclose her eyes, worrying her lip. Their silence made the trek even more arduous, Aletheia finding herself tapping her own feet in boredom. They travelled for some time before finally stopping, Jack peering at her over her paper. “We’ve arrived,” he said briskly, taking their bags with him before offering her a hand out of the carriage. Holding her skirts carefully, thankful that the bustle was rather soft, taking Jack’s hand.   
“Thank you,” she breathed, smoothing her skirts, the magenta corsage, and patterned silk bright against Liverpool’s dreary skies.   
“Looking alluring as always,” her brother offered, giving her his arm. She blushed at his statement, adjusting her gloves. “Are you done fawning over yourself sister?” Jack asked, lips twitching into a smile. Relieved to see that her brother was in a better mood, and wouldn’t sulk, she put his teasing aside giving him a smile instead.   
“A woman must always look presentable,” she said, recalling her mother’s statement. Jack snickered, adjusting his grip on their bags before pulling her along to where they would stay.   
“A woman must also never be late,” he retorted, looking at her. “And your fawning will make us dreadfully late I’m afraid.” Jack said moving his cane in front of her before she could waltz in front of an approaching carriage. “Do try to stay alive sister, we haven't had the privilege to uncover the killers yet.” Jack tsked softly, leading her towards two iron gates. “We are residing with the Baxter family,” he informed her, “Clarence is...an acquired taste, try not to offend him.” He added, looking at her. “They have high regard for you sister, I’ve only disclosed the best.” Aletheia held her head a bit higher, not wanting to disenchant their host.  
As they approached a servant came to them, taking their bags with a soft “Follow me Mr. Clarke.” Jack followed the servant, leading Aletheia along.   
“The Baxter’s…. may seem a bit, ignorant.” Jack said softly. Aletheia wasn’t a stranger to the strange looks, and disgusted remarks on her tanned skin. She gave him a smile in response, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.   
“I will be alright brother,” she said softly, holding her skirts when they reached the steps.  
“It’s never been of any concern before.” Jack smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly.  
“I do hope you’re right.” Aletheia nodded, taking a breath as they were led into the estate, being sure to keep her face composed.   
“Jack my boy, wonderful to have you back!” A man whom Aletheia supposed to be Mr. Baxter, said laying a hand on his shoulder. “And you must be Aletheia, Jack has told me much about you, Mrs. Clarke, you may call me Florence,” he said a bit softer, kissing her hand gently.  
“The pleasure is mine,” she said softly.   
“Clarence, do be respectful to our company.” Florence said, looking up the stairs. Footsteps followed by unhappy grumbling echoed softly, deep brown breeches, and riding boots the first to be seen. Aletheia met his gaze, eyes hard and demanding.   
“Clarence, it's been far too long.” Jack said first, extending a hand. Clarence smiled in response, taking his hand firmly.   
“Jack, I’ve had the most exquisite scotch, we can converse over a glass.” Clarence said with a smile.  
“This is my sister, Aletheia Clarke.” Jack said, looking to her, and back to Clarence.  
“Even more beautiful in the flesh,” he said, pressing his lips to her knuckles. His dark eyes met hers, a mischievous glint to them. She cursed herself for her blush, face hot. Before she could respond Jack shifted slightly.  
“Aletheia and I have made deductions on The Kornermen,” He said firmly.  
“We will need to see the bodies,” she added, looking to Florence. “In order to make a proper deduction on the intent of the killings, we will need to devise the cause of death.”  
“Both women received trauma through the throat and chest.” Clarence said.   
“Yes, but why Mrs. Blaire, and Ms. Chattoway? Were the murders planned or were they spontaneous?” Aletheia countered. “When we can inspect the bodies, we will be able to have a grasp of how the killing was conducted, and may have more intelligence as to who will be targeted next, but only if we can see the bodies,” she said looking to Clarence. Jack bit back a snicker, disguising it with a cough.  
“If only for a short moment,” Jack said, “It would put her mind at ease.”   
“If the lady insists.” Florence said with a nod.  
“Be mindful, the bodies are rather gruesome for a lady of your rank.” Clarence said, looking to her challengingly.  
“As astonishing as it may seem Mr. Baxter, I have been in the presence of the dead more than you would suppose.” Aletheia stated, looking to Clarence, wanting him to react.  
“I do hope you have,” he said, looking to his father. “Shall we send for a carriage?” Florence nodded to his son, looking to Aletheia remorsefully.  
“I apologize for my-”  
“With all due respect sir, I do not think an apology from you is acceptable,” she said, looking at him.   
“What my sister means to say I-” Jack began, body tense.  
“I believe Ms.Clarke’s statement is plausible.” Florence said, hands clasped behind his back. “My son can be a bit… coarse,” he said softly. “Clarence will accompany you to the station, and I assure you he will be on his finest behavior.”  
“Mr. Baxter, although I greatly appreciate your efforts, I am more than capable to deal with Clarence myself.” Aletheia said firmly. Florence chuckled softly at that, studying her.   
“You’re quite intriguing Ms. Clarke.” Aletheia offered him a curt smile, turning to Jack.   
“Mr. Clarke, if you please,” a servant said softly, offering him his cane and coat. Alethia gathered her skirts in one hand, the other settled in the crook of Jack’s arm.   
“I hope you are prepared, Ms. Clarke.” Clarence stated, offering her a hand.  
“I can assure you that I am,” she commented, taking his hand as she stepped into the carriage. Jack followed,sitting across from her, Clarence sitting at her side. “Mr. Baxter, if you don’t mind there is an available spot next to my brother.”  
“Yes, but your safety is of utmost importance.” Clarence replied, looking to her, eyes taking in her form, tongue wetting his lips, eyes meeting her again.  
“Of course,” she breathed, skin hot under the neck of her dress, gloved hands restless by his closeness. She feigned calmness, ignoring the slight smirk he gave, turning his gaze out to the city. If only she could reach out and touch him, body hot underneath her clothes.  
“How is your mother fairing?” Clarence questioned, looking to Jack.  
“Much better, she has hardly needed to rest during the day.” Jack said with a smile. “She is still ailing, but she smiles more than before, Father believes she may be alright this time.” Aletheia saw the glint of hope in her brother's eyes, remembering her mother's remark.  
“I’m sure Mrs. Clarke will recover.” Clarence offered, gaze falling back to the city. “It will storm, we do not have much time. Today is not the day for thorough inspections, just enough to deduce a theory.” Aletheia nodded, peering up to the sky in disdain, she despised storms.   
“I’m sure we can sit down for an evening tea.” Jack said, looking to Aletheia in understanding.  
“We would not be lying to our father.” Aletheia said, “You did claim we were traveling for tea with a friend.” Jack blushed at the tease, chuckling softly.   
“Not all of us deceit father per diem.”   
“Brother, that is the improper use for the phrase.” Aletheia corrected, looking to him pointedly.  
“But you’ve understood my statement sister.” Jack said with a smile.   
“Touché,” Aletheia relented, crossing her hands in her lap to compose herself. The ride to the Scotland Yard was short, in light of their ride from Manchester to Liverpool.   
“Welcome to the Scotland Yard.” Clarence said, offering her a hand. She took it gingerly, gathering her skirts as she stepped out, smoothing her bodice. “I must warn you, the men can be a bit...blunt, with their thoughts.” Clarence said, offering her his arm before Jack could.  
“I assure you Baxter, I can fend for myself, as astonishing as it may seem.” Aletheia retorted with a slight smile. Clarence chuckled, shaking his head fondly.   
“Jack you never disclosed her sense of humor.” Clarence said, looking to him, raising a brow.   
“She is an...acquired taste.” Jack said, giving Clarence a friendly smirk.   
“I would prefer if you would refrain from speaking as if she wasn't here.” Aletheia said, keeping her gaze in front of her.   
“Darling, we are simply having a bit of fun.”  
“Baxter, I am not your darling.” Aletheia said, pulling her arm from his, gathering her skirts with a huff. “I may be a woman, and a colored woman at that, but I am not to be toyed with as if I were a child,” she said looking to Clarence and Jack, cursing her reddened cheeks.   
“Clarke, this is not about gender, or your tanned skin.” Clarence said gently, “It's simply what friends do.”  
“A shame we aren’t friends,” she said, letting herself in.  
“Clarke, with all due respect, waltzing in here unannounced, without a chaperone, is not wise for a female of any rank.” Clarence said, taking her arm in his. “These men are far from honorable.”   
“Young Baxter my boy! So much like your father, you could never stay away for too long.” An older man hugged him tightly, patting his back. “Good to have you back,” he said looking to Aletheia. “Brought us entertainment?” He chuckled, brushing her cheek.  
“Actually, this is Aletheia Clarke, her and I-we are...courting.” Clarence said, clearing his throat. “And this is Jack Clarke, our...chaperone.” Before she could protest, the man chuckled.   
“Allow me to properly introduce myself Ms. Clarke,” he said, kissing the back of her hand. “Sir Gerald Thompson, at your service.” She gave him a smile, pulling her hand away slowly.   
“We are here to inspect the bodies.” Clarence said firmly.  
“I see a body I’d like to inspect,” one of the men teased, turning away from her. She straightened her posture, determined to not react to the crude suggestions.  
“Right this way Clarence, Ms. Clarke, Mr. Clarke.”   
“I was unaware that we were courting Baxter.” Aletheia said softly, not looking to him.  
“Would you rather me throw you to the dogs Clarke? I’d be more than willing.” She tightened her grip on his arm, taking a breath. “As I’d deduced Clarke, you’re easy to read.” Clarence said, looking down at her with a slight smile, as if she’d shared an endearment with him. “You are quite independent, but have yet to spend a day in the world of men.” She began to say something, before deciding against it, knowing he was right yet refusing to admit it. Instead she focused on the task ahead of them. Determining the cause of the deaths of Mrs.Blair, and Ms. Chattoway, would be simple. Deducing the next victim would prove to be more challenging. Caught up in her thoughts, she did not hear Clarence’s question, or the repetitive mention of her name, until Jack shook her shoulder.   
“Aletheia, please, the death of Mr. Griggs,” he said, slightly irritated.   
“Of course,” she said with a nod. “Mr. Griggs died of exsanguination, receiving trauma through the neck, abdomen, and testicles.” she said, looking to Clarence. “His carotid artery was cut precisely, from behind. Following the assault, he was then strangled to expedite his death, while receiving wounds to the abdomen. Once he had bled out he was then castrated.” Aletheia knew his death well, reciting the incident without pause.   
“Interesting,” Clarence breathed, looking to the bodies in front of them.   
“As I stated, Mr. Griggs was assaulted from behind, by Mrs. Blaire, and Ms. Chattoway were assaulted from the front,” she said, storing the deduction away. “Mrs. Blaire was strangled, judging by the blood beneath her nails, she was the least willing victim.” Aletheia said, pulling the sheet back,eyes travelling down her abdomen. “By god, Mrs. Blaire was- was with child,” she said, pressing a gloved hand to her mouth. Jack looked to her, coming to her side.   
“Perhaps, it was in spite,” he offered.  
“Mr. Griggs castration was in spite, the removal of the ovaries was intentional. Mrs. Blaire was with the child when she was killed.” Aletheia spoke, desperate to calm her erratic breathing, in front of her male counterparts.  
“Mrs. Blaire was with child, and Ms. Chattoway was alone, but why was Mr. Briggs attacked from behind?”  
“Had either woman gone to the authorities, their claims would not have been reliable.” Clarence said, “Their stories would be weak and emotional.” Before she could get upset Jack nodded, looking to her.  
“Mr. Griggs was attacked from behind to protect himself. Had he survived, there'd be a witch hunt to find them.”  
“We are dealing with patriarchal serial killers,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood.   
“Now that we’ve determined something, how can we predict who will be next?” Clarence pushed, “These deductions will mean nothing if we cannot protect the people.  
“It could be anyone of high ranking. But they’ve successfully committed their first male murder, it would be unwise not to target another male.” Jack said.  
“The first task would be to implement a curfew. The streets are dangerous in the late evenings, for women, especially.” Alethia said, covering Mrs. Blaire's body. “I believe that is enough deduction, wouldn’t you say Baxter?” Clarence nodded, offering her his arm again, which she took gratefully, thankful to have something to cling to. The thought of Mrs. Blaire being with a child pained her more that she could admit. Ignoring the crude comments, Alethia simply kept her gaze steady, keeping her composure. Jack offered her a hand as they returned to the carriage, not questioning her sudden silence.


End file.
